Spirits from Beyond g-4

by Simon R. Green

  Kim pouted. “How come you can pick up all this stuff, and I can’t?”

  “Because I’m alive,” said Happy, not unkindly.

  Brook looked at Happy, then at JC. “I never heard of half the things he said. What is he talking about?”

  “I don’t know,” said JC. “I think he makes half of it up as he goes along to put the rest of us in the right frame of mind.”

  “I do not!” said Happy.

  “But why are all those things coming here?” said Brook. “What do they want?”

  “Us,” said Melody.

  “Lives, and just as often deaths, are currency to these Things,” said Happy. “Eaters of Souls, our ancestors called them. They see us as energy sources. Or snacks, if you like. We’re junk food, to Things from Higher Dimensions! And the more they consume, the more powerful they become, and the better chance they have of gaining a foothold in our world.”

  “By eating real things, they become more real,” said Melody. “They want to eat us all up, body and soul.”

  “Just because they can,” said JC.

  “I was better off when I thought it was ghosts,” said Brook.

  “Lots of people say that to us,” said Happy.

  “The Carnacki Institute has been studying these Things From Outside ever since it was formed,” said Melody, “Back in the days of Good Queen Bess. And we’re still no nearer understanding what they are. Science keeps advancing, in leaps and bounds, but these Things are still so far beyond us that we’re still arguing over what to call them, never mind grasping their essential nature. Aliens, demons, inhabitants of Higher or Lower dimensions. . I don’t think we have the words, or even the concepts, to properly comprehend them. Doesn’t matter, though. We can still kick their nasty arses if we keep our wits about us.”

  “You always make me nervous when you talk like that,” said Happy. “You never know Who, or What, might be listening.”

  “Wimp,” said Melody.

  Brook shook his head slowly. “I was never big on Theory, when I worked for Carnacki. I cleaned up the mess you guys left behind. We never needed to understand. . All we cared about was how big a shovel we were going to need. But now I need to know. Why have they come here? What’s so important about the King’s Arms? Am I right in thinking it’s something to do with this strange power source?”

  “Seems likely; doesn’t it?” said JC.

  “How can you be so calm?” Brook said angrily.

  “Practice,” said JC. “I’m sure this has all been a nightmare for you, but trust me. We have been here before. Now, tell me about the history of the King’s Arms.”

  “Well,” said Brook, “after Lydia’s father, the inn was run by this gay couple, and the locals named the pub the Queens’ Arms. Rustic humour. .”

  “I meant,” JC said patiently, “the inn’s original history. .”

  “Oh!” said Brook. “Of course. . Well, if you go back far enough, through the centuries. . the inn’s had hundreds of different names and identities. I did some digging into the inn’s past, trying to understand what was happening. . First on the Net, then down in the town, reading my way through the old church records. None of that’s ever going to turn up on the Net, not given the state those records are in. . There was a local historian some years back who took a special interest in the stories that had accumulated around the King’s Arms. A lot of them were contradictory; but then, that’s local history for you. Never was a local historian without their own axe to grind. Politics, religion, old scores to pay off. .

  “Anyway, go back far enough, and you find all sorts of curious chronicles and proceedings. Apparently, there were several occasions when the town council called for the inn to be burned down. Usually after an exorcism had spectacularly failed to work. One priest actually walked all the way up here to curse the inn officially, with bell, book, and candle. Didn’t make a blind bit of difference. You would think. . that with so many bad stories centring on this inn, that the locals would abandon the place and set up another pub, inside the town, and do their drinking there. But somehow, that never happened. Instead, the townspeople seemed to take a perverse pride in doing their drinking in a place outsiders were too scared to visit. And I found a suggestion in the old records that the prosperity and maybe even the safety of the town is linked to the safety and prosperity of the inn. That its continuing presence protects Bishop’s Fording.

  “It is possible that the very first version of this inn was called The Oak Tree. Because there are old stories, based on even older stories, that the name derives from ancient Druid practices in this area. I have heard it suggested, or at least very strongly implied, that these old-time Druids set something in motion, long ago, that kept on happening. And that’s why no-one wants to meddle with the pub. In case its long existence is somehow linked to what the Druids did, and the King’s Arms is somehow holding off something even worse. .”

  Brook realised he’d been lecturing JC for some time, got embarrassed, and stopped talking. Happy gave JC a hard look.

  “Druids? More bloody Druids? I don’t believe in coincidences, JC. Coincidences are the Universe’s way of getting you to pay attention.”

  “The Boss wanted us here,” JC said thoughtfully. “But to do what exactly? And why us?”

  “Why is he looking at me?” said Happy, raising his eyes dramatically to the heavens. “Do I look like I have any answers? I am famous for never having any answers! I know nothing! Lots of nothing!”

  “Perhaps we’re supposed to die here,” said Melody, quite seriously. “Because of what we found out at the Secret Libraries.”

  Happy looked at her approvingly. “I think some of me is rubbing off on you.”

  “Moving hastily on,” JC said loudly. “Before someone makes a very inappropriate joke. . We have to believe Catherine Latimer is on our side or we might as well cut off our own heads. We can’t do this without her. So we’re here because the Boss trusts us to Do Something. About whatever it is that’s really going on here. And that must be important, maybe even significant; or she wouldn’t have sent her very best A team. Would she?”

  “Denial ain’t only a river in Egypt,” murmured Happy.

  “Shut up, Happy,” said JC.

  Melody was looking thoughtfully at Brook. “You said. . the upstairs phenomena only started up again recently.”

  “Yes,” said Brook. “And I have been wondering. . whether all of this could be my fault. Did I wake things up again by letting out the upstairs rooms? Did I put new bait in an old trap? Throw fresh meat to the waiting Beasts? That’s why I wanted you people here. To find out the truth.”

  “I say we nuke the place from orbit,” said Happy. “It’s the only way to be sure.”

  “You always say that,” said Melody.

  “And I’m nearly always right,” said Happy.

  “Actually,” said Kim, “I’m pretty sure I’d pay good money to see that. .”

  “How much?” said Happy.

  “But what if the inn is. . containing the evil?” said Melody. “Destroy the inn, and you might let the Bad Things run loose.”

  “We don’t destroy places,” JC said firmly. “We solve problems. And to do that, we need more information. Adrian, what is the oldest part of this inn? I mean, the physically oldest part of the building?”

  “This inn’s been rebuilt and refurbished so many times, down the centuries,” Brook said doubtfully. “It was a tavern before it was an inn before it was a pub. . God knows what it was, originally, back in those old Druid days. . The outer stone walls are still original I think. It’s definitely local stone, from the quarry over the hill. But I suppose the oldest components. . would have to be those old oak beams, in the ceiling.”

  They all looked up, at the long, exposed wooden beams that stretched the length of the ceiling. No-one needed to say Oak beams. . The Oak Tree. It was so obvious. JC took off his sunglasses to better study the ancient oak with his golden eyes; but they looked like nothing other th
an wood. Kim launched herself up from beside him, so she could hover directly below the ceiling, pushing her face right next to the oak beams. . and then she drifted back down again, shaking her head.

  “I will never get used to that,” said Brook.

  “You are not alone,” said JC.

  “You’ll believe a ghost can fly,” Happy said solemnly.

  Melody had a sudden fit of the giggles, to pretty much everyone’s surprise. Kim joined in. Happy gave the oak beams his full attention, distancing himself from such frivolity.

  “I’m not picking up anything from the ceiling in general or the beams in particular. They’re not saying anything to me.”

  Melody stopped laughing, took a deep breath, and almost immediately dropped into a sulk. “It’s not fair! If I had my full equipment here, I could run proper tests. I could shake this whole building by the scruff of the neck and make it tell us everything we need to know. With what I’ve got here, the best I can hope to do is poke the local phenomena with a stick and hope they feel intimidated.”

  She hesitated, then before anyone could stop her, jumped down from her bar-stool and ran back up the stairs. In a moment she returned with her suitcase. She opened it and set up her lap-top and scanners on the bar-counter, working quickly and efficiently. No-one offered to help. Melody was very protective of her babies. She was soon scowling into her lap-top screen.

  “Of course,” she said, to no-one in particular. “It would help if I knew what the hell I was looking for.”

  “If we knew what we were looking for, we’d already be doing something about it,” said Happy.

  “At least my equipment provides us with specific information!” said Melody. “Unlike certain psychic people I know who wander around pointing at things, and going Ooh!”

  “I have never gone Ooh!” said Happy. “And I can See things your equipment could only ever dream of.”

  JC looked fondly on his team-mates as they argued loudly with each other and shared a smile with Kim. He was glad to see Happy and Melody talking to each other again, back to the open bickering of their old relationship. It was how they communicated. Kim leaned in close, to murmur in JC’s ear.

  “It’s all very sweet, but how long do you suppose that’s going to last?”

  “Beats me,” JC said quietly. “I’m glad it’s happening at all. I would be the first to admit that I have never known what it is they see in each other. Their relationship would baffle a whole coven of psychiatrists. Hopefully, the shared experiences of this case will bind them together again.”

  “I have always admired your optimism, darling,” said Kim.

  “It’s the only way to survive, working with those two,” said JC. “Or, indeed, with the Carnacki Institute. Melody! Are you getting anything useful?”

  “Nothing worth reporting,” growled Melody, not taking her eyes off the glowing lap-top screen. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear everything here was hiding from me. Bastards.”

  “So far, all the supernatural activity we’ve encountered has been limited to the upper floor,” said JC. “Nothing’s come down here after us. So, Melody, I think we need to provoke a response. See what you can do. Happy, reach out and make contact with Something. Feel free to be extremely annoying.”

  Melody grinned broadly, tapping rapidly away at her keyboard. Happy looked thoughtful. Kim leaned in close to JC again.

  “Darling, is this wise?”

  “Probably not,” JC said cheerfully.

  Brook shifted uneasily behind the bar-counter. “What, precisely, are you doing?” he said. “What is Ms. Chambers up to with that lap-top?”

  “Something very technical that you and I couldn’t hope to understand,” said JC. “Being the mere mortals that we are. But I have seen Melody work miracles with far less tech, and I have no doubt that she will annoy the hell out of whatever may be lurking in the vicinity. Don’t ask me how. Really, don’t. Ghost Finder science is very inexact.”

  “Only because you don’t understand it,” said Melody. “Don’t worry, I’ll soon stir these ghostly little shits up and make them squeal like piggies. .”

  “You want to get the ghosts mad at us?” said Brook, incredulously. “Okay; that is it. I am leaving.”

  “Finally!” said Happy. “A sane man, a kindred spirit, a man after my own heart! Get your coat, Brook, and I’ll hold the door open for you.”

  “Stand your ground, both of you!” JC said sternly. “Happy, concentrate. Melody, anything yet?”

  “I am pumping all kinds of psychic chaff into the aether,” said Melody, still pounding away at her lap-top. “I am disrupting all the local dimensional frequencies and playing merry hell with all the paranormal patterns I can reach.”

  JC looked at Brook. “Told you we wouldn’t understand. Are you actually achieving anything, Melody?”

  “She’s giving me one hell of a headache,” growled Happy.

  “Me, too,” said Kim, frowning.

  “Good,” Melody said briskly. “That means it’s working.”

  All the windows in the main bar suddenly slammed open, and the storm burst in. A bitterly cold wind blasted through the bar, knocking over everything that wasn’t nailed down. Overthrown tables and chairs were sent somersaulting the length of the bar, smashing into each other with vicious force. Glasses and drinks abandoned by regulars who’d left in a rush flew through the air, smashing against the walls. The wind roared through the bar, carrying the rain with it, soaking the curtains and the carpets.

  Melody crouched protectively over her precious equipment. Happy and JC huddled together. Brook crouched behind the bar-counter, crying out with shock. Kim stood where she was, peering uncertainly around her, as chairs and other things tumbled straight through her insubstantial form. JC yelled to Melody, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the storm.

  “You’ve definitely got Something’s attention, Melody! Any idea what?”

  “Beats the hell out of me! The readings don’t make any sense!” Melody yelled back, fighting to be heard over the storm. “But this is nothing to do with ghosts! It’s only weather!”

  “Could be poltergeists!” yelled Happy. “Is it poltergeists?”

  “Not according to these readings!” said Melody.

  Her last few shouted words fell into a sudden silence. The storm had broken off as abruptly as it began, the wind dropping away to nothing. The last of the rain fell away, leaving puddles on the floor. More ran down the walls, and dripped from the bottoms of soaked curtains. The sudden hush was almost brutal, after the rage of the storm. Tables and chairs crashed to a halt and were still, and the windows stopped slamming open and shut. JC and Happy let go of each other and moved quickly around the bar, shutting the windows and fastening them securely. They could still hear the storm howling outside, but now at a safe distance. It wasn’t trying to get in, any more. Kim was still looking about her, frowning prettily. Happy went over to Melody, who only had eyes for her lap-top.

  “Well?” said JC. “Anything?”

  “No,” said Melody. “That. . appears to be it. I prodded the local power source with my science stick, and that was what we got in response. A very basic reaction. Interesting. .”

  “But what does it mean?” said Brook, rising very cautiously from behind the bar-counter.

  “I’ll have to think about it,” said Melody.

  She stared at her lap-top screen with such complete concentration she didn’t even realise Happy was still standing over her. He nodded, gave up, and went back to JC. Who knew a man who needed distracting when he saw one.

  “All right, Happy, you’re up.”

  “What do you want me to do?” said Happy, not unreasonably.

  “Reach out!” said JC, waving his arms around in what he hoped was a meaningful way. “Make contact with. . Something! Slap it around the head in your own special psychic way and get it to talk to you. Say nasty things about its mother. .”

  Happy shrugged briefly and concentrated.
Melody finally realised what he was doing and shut down her tech so it wouldn’t interfere with his efforts. Brook looked like he wanted to duck behind the bar-counter again, but JC glared at him till he held his ground. Kim stared at Happy, fascinated, and went back to hover beside JC.

  “Do you have any idea why the storm invaded the bar?” JC said quietly.

  “It wasn’t just a storm,” said Kim. “I could feel anger in it. .”

  “All right!” Happy said loudly. He was frowning so hard it must have been painful, but he was also grinning in a really unpleasant way. “Everybody please shut the hell up and pay attention! Look around you! We are very definitely not alone here!”

  Everyone looked up and down the wrecked and waterlogged main bar, but there was no-one else present that they could see. Everything seemed perfectly still and quiet. And then all the bar taps turned themselves on at once, and a dozen frothing liquids fell to the floor. Beers and ciders and lagers, all spouting out of the opened taps. Brook cried out and ran up and down the bar, closing the taps one after another. But the moment he moved on, the closed taps opened themselves up again. Brook swore loudly, as the floor behind the counter flooded. And then all the bottles on display at the back of the bar exploded, one after another; blasting vicious glass shrapnel through the air. Brook came running out from behind the counter, his arms up to protect his head.

  JC grabbed him and pulled him down, away from the flying glass. Happy was already crouching, both arms wrapped around his head. Melody stayed where she was, peering out from behind her lap-top. And Kim stood still, letting things pass through her with complete indifference. Slowly, things began to quiet down. There were no bottles left to explode, and the taps began to run dry, one after another.

  And then, the overturned tables and chairs began to rock back and forth, as though gathering strength and determination. They rolled slowly along the floor towards the besieged people, gathering speed. There was a blind, brutal intent behind their advance, as they headed straight for JC and Happy, Brook and Melody. Kim strode forward to block their way, one hand held out imperiously. The tables and chairs rolled straight through her.